OREN 


: 


IB! 


mfru^ 

University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


,  */\£**«s 


FLORENCE  BARDSLEY'S  STORY 


Miss  BARDSLEY,  AGE  19. 


FLORENCE  BARDSLEY'S 
•         STORY     illff 

THE  LIFE  AND  DEATH  OF  A 
REMARKABLE  WOMAN 

BY 

EUGENE  FIELD 


CHICAGO 

W.    IRVING    WAY 

1897 


Copyright,  1897, 
W.  Irving  Way. 


NOTE. 

"N  the  Summer  of 
1892  the  late  Mr. 
Eugene  Field  was 
asked  by  the  Edi 
tor  of  a  magazine 
of  bookish  charac 
ter  to  write  an  ar 
ticle  for  bis  Christ 
mas  number, —  something  in 
the  nature  of  a  review.  Mr. 
Field  answered  that  he  doubted 
if  he  could  produce  anything 
satisfactory,  as  he  had  never 
written  a  serious  review  of  a 
real  book,  but  if  the  editor 
would  like  a  skit  on  a  mythi 
cal  book  he  could  perhaps  give 
him  something  that  might 
serve.  The  editor  replied  that 


this  was  precisely  what  he 
wanted.  Mr.  Field  therefore 
set  to  work  with  a  confidence 
born  of  the  success  of  a  former 
effort  in  the  same  line,  which 
was  printed  in  his  own  paper 
at  the  expense  of  a  local  pub 
lishing  house,  and  which,  by 
the  way,  was  productive  of 
much  amusement  to  himself 
and  confusion  to  the  publish 
ers  alluded  to.  The  review  of 
the  mythical  book  was  duly 
submitted  to  the  editor  of  the 
magazine,  but  after  a  proper 
lapse  of  time  was  returned  to 
Mr.  Field — not,  however,  with 
the  usualdeclined-witb-thanks 
letter,  but  with  one  of  praise, 
and  an  expression  of  regret 
that  the  review  was  so  good  as, 
if  used,  to  subject  bis  maga- 


(ttof e.  1 1 

%ine  and  its  publishers  to  ex 
pense  and  annoyance  from 
would-be  purchasers  of  the 
book  reviewed.  However,  Mr. 
Field  was  at  liberty  to  make 
use  of  the  article  wheresoever 
he  chose,  and  an  honorarium 
would  be  sent  him  the  same  as 
if  the  article  bad  been  used  in 
the  periodical  for  which  it  was 
written. 

In  due  time  it  was  printed, 
and  lost,  on  one  of  the  pages 
of  the  "Morning  News  "  where 
readers  were  not  accustomed  to 
seek  his  "Sharps  and  Flats" 
and  from  which  it  is  now  re 
captured  by  the  kind  permis 
sion  of  those  concerned. 

It  seems  unnecessary  to  in 
dicate  the  source  of  the  por 
traits. 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Miss  BARDSLEY,  AGE  19  .  .     .     Frontispiece 

Miss  BARDSLEY,  AGE  45  .  >,    .    ,      page  35 

FRAU  WINKELMANN     .  .  .     ,...     page  41 

Miss  BARDSLEY,  AGE  80  .  .   ;.    ..  }    page  47 


FLORENCE  BARDSLEY'S  STORY 


Sforence 


THE  LIFE  AND    DEATH   OF   A  REMARKABLE  WOMAN. 

LTHOUGH 
there  is  no 
positive— by 
which  we 
mean  au 
thoritative- 
assurance  to  that  effect,  it 
seems  probable  that  in  the 
research  and  study  involved 
by  his  exploiture  of  the  Tal 
leyrand  memoirs,  Mr.  White- 
law  Reid  became  interested 
in  the  remarkable  character 


i8 


Sfotence  Qgftrfcgfeij' 


1  Un  Apergu 
de  la  Vie  de 
Mme.  la 
Comtesse  de  la 
Tour.     Par 
WHITELAW 
REID, 

Ministrepleni- 
potentiaire  et 
Envoy6 
extraordinaire 
des  Etats- 
Unis. 

Bouchet  et 
Fils,  Paris. 


and  quite  as  remarkable  career 
of  Mme.  la  Comtesse  de  la 
Tour.1  The  history  of  that 
singular  genius  was  such  as 
would  naturally  appeal  for 
admiration  and  sympathy  to 
one  of  so  romantic  and  so 
gracious  a  disposition  as  the 
famous  journalist-diplomate ; 
yet  what  causes  soever  may 
have  led  to  the  work,  the 
work  is  here  before  us,  com 
plete  in  its  elaboration,  exact 
ness,  delicacy,  humor,  and 
tenderness — as  charming  a 
monograph  as  ever  has  fallen 
to  our  lot  for  perusal  and  ex 
ploitation. 

This  Un  Aperou  de  la  Vie 

de  Mme.  la  Comtesse  de  la 

Tour  is,  we  understand,  the 

.  first  performance   attempted 


Sforence  $ar&0fee'0  JJfore.  1 9 

by  Mr.  Reid  in  the  French  ; 
therefore  is  it  notable  not 
more  as  a  critical  essay  upon 
a  character  of  singular  inge 
nuity  than  as  the  maiden  ef 
fort  of  an  enterprising  and 
conscientious  scholar  in  a  for 
eign  language.  It  shall  never 
cease  —  we  make  the  humil 
iating  confession  at  once  —  it 
shall  never  cease  to  be  the 
cause  of  deep  and  poignant 
regret  to  us  that  we  are  un 
able  to  detect  and  to  analyze 
that  subtle  vein  of  sportive 
satire  (cette  veine  subtile  de 
satire  enjouee)  which,  accord 
ing  to  La  Revue  des  Beaux- 
Arts,  winds  its  graceful  way 
through  this  fascinating  bro 
chure  ;  our  acquaintance  with 
the  French  is,  alas  !  not  suffi- 


2  o  Sforence  Q£ar&0f  eu' 


ciently  nice  to  admit  of  our 
appreciation  of  the  delicacies 
of  Gallic  synonym,  allusion, 
and  conceit  ;  the  subtleties  in 
which,  according  to  the  Pari 
sian  reviewers,  this  little  book 
abounds  are  beyond  our  com 
prehension.  In  short,  we  find 
ourselves  in  a  condition  of 
which  the  old  Canterbury 
bard  has  said  : 

What  playne  tale  ben  tollen  full  faire 

yt  is  to  knowe, 
But  soothly  speeche  yn  craftie  wise 

menne  reden  not  soe. 


It  is  our  good  old  friend  Dr. 
I.  Watts  who  has  remarked, 
—  albeit  we  do  not  find 
the  verses  in  Mr.  Bartlett's 


Sforence  $5enrb0feE'0  ^forg.  2  1 


new  and  enlarged  edition  of 
Familiar  Quotations, 

Artless  communications  bring 

A  fund  of  pure  delight, 
Whilst  every  dark,  ambiguous  thing 

In  speech  is  out  of  sight. 

But  let  us  not  repine.  Our 
task  is  before  us.  C0  <fs^w  ^Xov 
capita  cpso-ret  —  buona  incudine 
non  teme  martetto  —  qui  mo- 
lam  fugit  far  inam  non  invenit. 

The  woman  whose  career 
Mr.  Reid  has  so  ingeniously 
reviewed  was  of  English  birth 
and  parentage  ;  her  father  was 
Sir  Robert  Bardsley,  a  physi 
cian  of  standing,  and  her  mo 
ther  was  a  Devonshire  lady, 
a  daughter  of  Sir  Archibald 
Crampton,  sometime  secre- 


22  Sforence  (fartefe^  JJforg. 

tary  to  the  famous  Indian  po 
tentate,  Benghali  Suhamazi, 
the  maharajah  of  Tingapoo. 
Of  this  most  excellent  couple 
Florence  Bardsley  (born  in 
1786)  was  the  second  child 
and  only  daughter.  At  an 
early  age,  almost  in  infancy, 
she  exhibited  that  bent  of 
character  which  in  subsequent 
years  made  her  the  most  con 
spicuous  of  her  sex.  She  was 
but  four  when,  as  her  biogra 
pher  asserts,  she  composed 
certain  "  Lines  to  my  Friend, 
Ralph  Armstrong, "  the  burden 
of  this  little  poem  being  a  re 
gret  that  Ralph  was  a  boy  in 
stead  of  a  girl.  Presumably 
the  sentiments  of  this  lyric 
did  not  appeal  to  the  youth  ; 
at  any  rate,  when  the  children 


r 

Sforence  (J&artefeg' 


met  again  Ralph  chastised  the 
infantile  poetess  (cbdtia  V en 
fant  potte),  an  action  that 
tended  to  confirm  the  latter's 
opinion  of  the  vanity  of  the 
estate  of  masculinity.  From 
this  curious  beginning  Flor 
ence  went  through  life  declar 
ing  and  exploiting  those  ad 
vantages  which  seemed  to 
her  to  accrue  from  being  a 
woman,  which  advantages, 
she  maintained  (and  most 
truly  and  righteously,  we 
think),  did  so  vastly  outnum 
ber  those  of  masculinity  that 
she  accounted  as  veritably 
fortunate  those  only  that  were, 
by  Heaven's  grace,  of  the  femi 
nine  persuasion.  Declining 
with  a  fine  scorn  the  services 
of  a  tutor,  this  remarkable  girl 


24  Sforence  g^arbafeg 


pursued  her  studies  under  the 
direction  of  a  governess,  ex 
hibiting  a  special  fondness  for 
literature,  composition,  his 
tory,  and  apologetics.  It  is 
said,  though  Mr.  Reid  does 
not  appear  to  credit  the  tradi 
tion,  that  for  several  years  the 
famous  Mme.  de  Genlis  was 
her  instructor  in  French  and 
Italian  and  upon  the  harpsi 
chord.  But  Mr.  Reid  does 
give  in  his  appendix  a  letter 
from  Mme.  de  Genlis  to  Mme. 
D'Arblay,  wherein  the  former 
speaks  of  Florence  as  the  most 
precocious  creature  (la  crea 
ture  la  plus  precooe)  she  has 
ever  met  with.  Thecomtesse 
herself  used  to  say  that,  as  a 
child,  her  amusements  and 
avocations  were  peculiarly 


Sforence  Q$ar$0feg'0  |£f  org.  2  5 

feminine  ;  she  had  a  dislike 
for  horses  and  fox-terriers ; 
she  never  went  to  the  hunt, 
nor  would  she  learn  to  swim, 
for  these  things  were,  as  she 
contended,  incompatible  with 
the  dignity  and  delicacy  of 
a  woman.  Her  only  pet,  as 
we  are  told,  was  a  beautiful 
French  poodle,  which  accom 
panied  her  everywhere,  until 
finally  it  expired  of  fright  dur 
ing  a  thunder-storm  of  un 
usual  violence  (il  eocpira  de 
frayeur  pendant  un  orage 
d'une  violence  inmitee). 

It  was  when  she  was  just 
turned  of  seventeen  that  Miss 
Bardsley  contributed  to  the 
London  Review  a  series  of  five 
articles  upon  "  The  Disadvan 
tages  of  Being  a  Man."  These 


2  6  Sforence  (J&arbefeg's  j$t org. 

papers,  published  anony 
mously,  created  a  mighty 
stir,  and  speculation  as  to  the 
identity  of  the  author  was 
rife.  The  precious  secret  was 
not  disclosed,  however,  until 
after  the  publication  of  the 
young  woman's  second  essay 
and  first  brochure,  which  was 
entitled,  "The  Horrors  of 
Shaving  Categorically  Set 
Forth  as  Showing  How  Evil 
a  Necessity  it  is  to  be  a 
Man."  Leigh  Hunt  seems  to 
have  been  the  first  to  ferret 
out  the  authorship  of  these 
curious  works.  At  any  rate, 
it  was  Leigh  Hunt  who  gave 
Florence  Bardsley's  name  to 
the  public  in  a  masterly  criti 
cism  that  evinced  clearly 
enough  Hunt's  sympathy 


Sforence  Q$arb0fee'0  |Jf org.  2  7 

with  the  young  woman's  ut 
terances.  Immediately  there 
was  a  great  tempest.  Women 
in  all  parts  of  the  United 
Kingdom  cried  out  against 
the  startling  heresies  promul 
gated  by  this  erratic  girl.  The 
newspapers  were  burdened 
with  letters  expostulating 
against  the  new  and  vicious 
doctrine.  The  crusade  was 
intemperate  to  the  degree  of 
absurdity.  Even  Mrs.  Piozzi1 
took  her  pen  in  hand  to 
launch  Johnsonian  invective 
against  the  "temerarious 
schismatic  "  and  her  "  pericu- 
lous  fripperies  !  "  In  short, 
the  ladies  made  so  furious  an 
onslaught  that  our  young 
philosopher  felt  compelled  to 
defend  herself;  and  this  she 


2  8  Sforence  Q&arbefeg'e 


did  in  the  ablest  manner  (as 
Mr.  Reid  avers  and  as  we 
are  prepared  to  believe),  in 
a  pamphlet  entitled  The  Pains 
and  Cares  of  Masculinity. 
This  book  met  with  an  enor 
mous  sale,  passing  into  four 
teen  editions,  and  being  trans 
lated  into  half  a  dozen  foreign 
tongues.  Wolfgang  Goethe 
used  to  say  it  was  the  most 
remarkable  book  he  had  read. 
When  Walter  Savage  Landor 
went  to  the  war  in  Spain  this 
was  the  one  volume  he  took 
with  him.  Southey  praised 
it  without  stint  ;  and  good 
old  Wordsworth  pronounced 
it  a  "sweet,  sweet  solace." 
Natheless  it  made  no  converts 
among  womankind.  It  sealed 
Florence  Bardsley's  doom 


$1 

Sforence  Q&artefeg' 


with  her  own  sex  ;  for  't  was 
only  with  horror  that  that  sex 
could  be  brought  to  contem 
plate  the  heresy  which  held 
the  estate  of  woman  to  be  pre 
ferable  to  the  estate  of  man. 

However  unpopular  Flor 
ence  became  with  woman 
kind,  she  was  universally  ad 
mired  of  men,  not  only  on  ac 
count  of  her  singular  personal 
beauty  and  her  intellectual 
charms,  but  also  through 
those  sentiments  of  gratitude 
which  every  intelligent  male 
experienced  upon  contem 
plating  what  heroic  service 
this  fair  reformer  strove  to  do 
in  behalf  of  his  sex.  Times 
were  then  so  very  different 
from  now.  "Woman,"  says 
Mr.  Reid,  "had  for  centuries 


3  o  Sforence  (Jjjartefeg'e  JJf or^ 

been  down-trodden,  and  her 
intellect  was  but  half  devel 
oped.  She  saw  dimly,  and  by 
erratic  mental  processes  she 
magnified  to  a  preposterous 
degree  what  she  saw.  She 
wailed  a  melancholy  song, 
of  which  the  burden  was 
man's  inhumanity  and  wo 
man's  woe,  man's  injustice 
and  woman's  martyrdom." 
"Heaven,"  cried  Mrs.  He- 
mans,  "is  that  blissful  future 
life  where  we  shall  be  re 
warded  and  men  shall  be 
punished;  for  in  heaven 
women  shall  be  changed  into 
men,  and  men  into  women! " 
Hence  hath  arisen  that  say 
ing  which  the  Dutch  have: 
ff  {Men  komt  niet  lacbende  in 
den  Hemel! )y 


Sforence  (Jljat*>0feg'0 


"It  is  hard,"  remarks  Mr. 
Reid  parenthetically— "  it  is 
hard  to  understand  now  the 
situation  as  it  existed  eighty 
years  ago,  times  have  so 
changed.  This  fair  young 
creature,  Florence  Bardsley, 
said  '  nay '  to  every  feminine 
tradition;  she  was  an  icono 
clast  that  went  about  rending 
the  beliefs  and  creeds  and 
dogmas  of  her  sex:  'we  are 
to  be  envied/  'we  alone  en 
joy  freedom  and  liberty/  'we 
govern  the  world/  'man  is 
weak,  woman  is  strong/ — 
this  was  her  new,  her  amaz 
ing  gospel.  But/'  and  here 
Mr.  Reid  significantly  quotes 
the  good  old  Danish  proverb: 
'"Anden  Tid  giver  andet 
Folk.'"  And  then  does  her 


3  2  Sforence  (j£ar&0feg'0 


biographer,  seemingly  borne 
away  by  enthusiasm,  inter 
rupt  the  thread  of  his  narra 
tive  to  commend,  in  terms  of 
exalted  eloquence,  the  un 
paralleled  valor  of  this  unap 
proachable  woman.  Yet  no 
encomium  does  he  utter  which 
we  shall  not  sturdily  defend 
in  case  the  righteousness  of 
his  declaration  be  impeached; 
for  we  know  full  well  that  it 
must  be  a  proper  cause,  else 
would  he  not  espouse  it; 
moreover  do  we  continually 
thank  God  that  at  an  early 
age  this  solemn  truth  was 
inculcated  —  viz.  ,  that  men 
owed  their  fellow-men  no 
sterner  or  sweeter  duty  than 
that  of  standing  by  one  an 
other.  Yet  shall  it  always  be 


Sforence  Qgarbefeg' 


a  cause  of  grief  to  us,  and  we 
make  great  moan,  that  it  is 
wholly  beyond  our  capability 
to  provide  you,  gentle  reader, 
with  an  Englished  specimen 
of  this  eloquence  whereof  we 
speak,  for  these  are  potent 
words  he  has  to  say  —  words 
not  only  extolling  Florence 
Bardsley  to  the  skies,  but 
also  incontinently  exonerat 
ing  our  masculine  sex  from 
that  Ossa-upon-Pelion  of  op 
probrium  which  femininity 
hath  piled  upon  it. 

Miss  Bardsley's  first  marri 
age  was  with  Clarence  Sidney 
Eastcourt,  the  son  of  a  manu 
facturer  at  Manchester.  The 
union,  altogether  felicitous, 
was  short-lived,  for  Mr.  East- 
court  soon  died  of  a  quinsy 


3  4  Sforence  QjJarbsfeg's  J$f org. 

contracted  from  exposure  at 
tennis,  a  vice  to  which  he  was 
violently  addicted  (absolu- 
ment  esclave),  and  at  which 
he  exhibited  marvelous  agil 
ity.  Two  years  later  —  we 
move  rapidly  with  our  narra 
tive,  for  we  cannot  with  plea 
sure  contemplate  the  anguish 
of  the  bereaved  bride  during 
this  melancholy  season — two 
years  later,  while  traveling  in 
Italy,  the  young  widow  met 
with  the  Comte  de  la  Tour,  a 
Parisian  of  wealth  and  cul 
ture  ;  a  few  months  later  she 
entered  into  a  matrimonial  al 
liance  with  him,  and  there 
after  her  home  was,  of  course, 
in  France,  the  comte's  estates 
lying  in  the  environs  of  the 
capital  city  of  that  empire. 


Miss  BARDSLEY,  AGE  45. 


Sforence  (J^attefeg's  JJforg. 


Although  her  senior  by  many 
years,  the  Comte  de  la  Tour 
was  in  complete  sympathy 
(enpleine  sympathie)  with  his 
wife's  extraordinary  views, 
and  he  encouraged  her  con 
tinually  to  the  prosecution 
of  her  mission.  The  conse 
quence  was  that,  during  the 
twenty  years  subsequent  to 
her  second  marriage,  Florence 
wrote  and  published  no  fewer 
than  sixty  pamphlets  in  ad 
vocacy  of  her  curious  heresies. 
During  this  period  she  was 
regarded  as  the  most  famous 
literary  woman  in  Europe ; 
her  society  was  courted  of  the 
noblest  intellects ;  sages,  war 
riors,  philosophers,  poets, 
authors,  artists,  the  clergy  — 
all  the  shining  lights  in  the 


1  Odes  et 
Potsies 
Diverses. 
Paris  (Levy), 
1876. 

2  Lyrisches 
Intermezzo, 
Santthche 
Poetische 
Werke. 

3  Aufl4 

Bande, 

Hamburg 

(Hoffman), 

1873- 

ZAutobi- 
ogra.ph.ie 
Gesawmelte 
Werke,  vierte 


Leipsig 
(Reissner), 
1873,  P-  I°6. 


realms  of  thought  and  of  en 
deavor  were  attracted  to  her 
salons.  "  She  is  the  apothe 
osis  of  feminine  beauty  and 
valor,"  wrote  Victor  Hugo.1 
Heine  spoke  of  her  as  "that 
wingless  angel/'2  and  that 
bearish  old  bachelor,  Schop 
enhauer,  declared3  that  she 
was  the  only  woman  that  had 
ever  awakened  a  tender  sen 
timent  in  his  bosom.  It  was 
to  Schopenhauer,  by  the 
way,  that  she  dedicated  her 
thoughtful  and  charming  trea 
tise  on  the  miseries  of  wear 
ing  suspenders  (Les  Miseres 
qui  Resultent  de  ce  que  les 
HommesTortent  desBretettes), 
of  which  we  should  like  to 
give  the  title,  but  for  the  cir 
cumstance  that  in  English  it 


Sforence  Q£arb0fee' 


does  not  sound  half  so  digni 
fied  as  in  the  original. 

In  the  autumn  of  1843,  the 
comtesse  was  challenged  to 
public  debate  by  Frau  Kath- 
rina  Winkelmann,  a  Hano 
verian,  who  had  previously 
published  a  book  against 
the  comtesse's  "abominable 
creed  and  school  of  thought. " 
The  debate  was  had  at  Brus 
sels  in  the  famous  Salle  de  la 
Concorde  of  the  royal  armory, 
and  lasted  two  days,  vast 
crowds  assembling  from  all 
over  Europe.  The  women 
applauded  Frau  Winkelmann 
to  the  echo,  while  the  men 
as  rapturously  indorsed  the 
comtesse's  utterances.  The 
debate  would  doubtless  have 
extended  over  a  longer  period 


40  Sforence  (J&a 


but  for  the  excitement  occa 
sioned  by  an  exceptionally 
bitter  tilt  between  the  cham 
pions  near  the  close  of  the 
second  day's  engagement. 
Exasperated  by  some  ingeni 
ous  repartee,  Frau  Winkel- 
mann  indignantly  declared 
(we  now  quote  from  the  offi 
cial  records,  id  est  dicer  e,  p. 
583  et  seq.}  :  "  If  I  could  be  a 
man  for  twenty-four  hours, 
the  first  thing  I  should  do 
would  be  to  go  down  town 
and  make  a  night  of  it  with 
the  boys."  (Si  je  pouvais 
etre  bomme  pendant  vingt- 
quatre  h  cures,  la  premiere 
chose  que  je  ferais  ce  serait  de 
descendre  en  viUe  pour  faire 
la  noce  avec  mes  joyeux  cam- 
arades.) 


PRAU    WlNKELMANN. 


Sforence  Q£arb0fee'0  JJfoirg. 


"Nay,"  retorted  the  com- 
tesse,  "  I  should  rather  spend 
that  time  upon  my  knees  im 
ploring  Heaven's  benignant 
offices  to  restore  me  once 
again  and  forever  to  woman 
hood,  an  estate  free  from  the 
weaknesses,  the  temptations, 
the  appetites,  and  the  evils 
that  beset  all  men  ! " 

Ensaboar  a  cabepa  do  asno, 
per  da  do  sabao.  This  last  au 
dacious  declaration  ended 
the  controversy  at  once;  the 
storm  that  had  been  gather 
ing  for  forty-eight  awful  hours 
now  burst  forth  in  all  its  fury. 

,  J  asserts  that 

Mei  berracbe  bat  leine  Oren- 
%en!    Waving  their  parasols 
and  umbrellas  in  threatening 
wise,  the  multitude  of  wo-    c™£** 
men1  made  a  rush  for  the          ' 


44 


Sforence  Q9arb0fe2'0 


platform,  determined  to  chas 
tise  the  comtesse  for  her  te 
merity.  "Do  fuer^a  viene, 
derecbo  se  pierde,"  as  we  Cas- 
tilians  say.  The  unhappy 
lady  sought  refuge  in  flight; 
that  night  she  made  her  way 
secretly  to  the  frontier,  and 
so  duly  effected  her  escape 
into  France.  This  incident 
gave  rise  to  the  popular 
phrase,  "  Between  Two 
Days,"  which  the  French 
have  politely  corrupted  into 
en^re  nous.  2 

The  Comte  de  la  Tour  died 
in  1848;  he  bequeathed  his 
enormous  wealth  to  his 
widow,  who  for  many  years 
maintained  an  academy  for 
the  dissemination  of  her 
philosophy.  This  institution 


'e  JJforg. 


failed  of  its  purposes,  how 
ever,  for  the  reason  that  no 
woman  would  patronize  it ; 
the  attendance  of  boys  and 
young  men  was  enormous, 
but  the  attendance  of  girls 
was  nil.  "  So  hard  is  it," 
cries  biographer  Reid,  and 
we  echo  his  passionate  cry — 
"  so  hard  is  it  to  combat  big 
otry  and  to  assuage  prejudice 
in  womankind ! " 

At  last,  after  a  life  of  singu 
lar  sweetness  and  piety,  and 
after  a  career  of  earnest  en 
deavor,  the  end  came.  In  the 
ninety-second  year  of  her  age 
this  marvelous  woman  passed 
away.  The  end  was  in  per 
fect  keeping  with  what  had 
gone  before.  Perceiving  that 
—but  no !  't  were  folly  for  us 


46  Sforence  (}£arb0feg'0 


to  undertake,  in  our  confessed 
feebleness,  to  tell  the  story  of 
the  pathetic  last  scene  of  all. 
Mr.  Reid's  narrative  of  this 
climax  is  so  strong  in  its  sim 
plicity,  tenderness,  and  fidelity 
that  we  choose  to  quote  it 
in  its  concinnate  Gallic  en 
tirety: 

"Voyant  que  sa  fin  etait 
proche,  la  comtesse  fit  man- 
der  son  confesseur.  Le  saint 
homme  se  rendit  sur  le  champ 
&  son  appel.  II  fut  surpris  et 
pein£  de  trouver  sa  venerable 
p£nitente  aussi  chang6e.  La 
mort  Tavait  deja  marquee  de 
son  doigt. 

"  'Je  vous  ai  envoye  cher- 
cher  en  toute  hate,  mon  pere/ 
dit-elle,  'car  mon  ame  est 


Miss  BARDSLEY,  AGE  80. 


Sforence  (Jjja 


obsedee  de  choses  que  je 
voudrais  vous  avouer.' 

"  Le  Pere  Michel  sourit 
tristement. 

"'Ah,  mon  enfant/  dit-il 
tendrement,  '  de  quoi  votre 
pauvre  ame  a-t-elle  a  se  con- 
fesser?  Votre  vie  n'a-t-elle 
pas  ete  un  modele ?  N 'a-t-elle 
pas  abonde  en  ceuvres  pieuses 
temoignant  d'une  fa9on  re- 
marquable  des  vertus  de  chas- 
tete,  zele  religieux,  charite, 
force  d'  ame  chretienne,  toler 
ance,  patience,  et  humilite?' 

"  '  Helas/  soupira  la  mour- 
ante,  "le  peu  de  bien  que  j'ai 
fait  a  ete  obscurci  et  amoindri 
par  un  peche  vraiment  grave, 
un  peche  qui  n'a  pas  ete  acci- 
dentel,  mais  qui  a  dure  pen 
dant  nombre  d'annees,  ainsi 


5  o  $fbrence  Q£arb0feg'0  |Jf org, 

que  vous  allez  1'apprendre, 
car  je  ne  puis  dire  adieu  a  ce 
monde  sans  m'en  etre  pleine- 
ment  confesse  a  vous.  Et  je 
vous  adjure  par  tout  ce  qu'il 
y  a  de  plus  sacre,  mon  pere, 
de  faire  connaitre  au  monde, 
une  fois  que  je  serai  morte,  ce 
que  je  suis  sur  le  point  de 
vous  reveler  en  confession, 
car  ainsi  seulement  sera-t-il 
possible  de  reparer  en  quelque 
sorte  le  mal  que  mes  conseils 
et  mes  actions  ont  cause/ 

"Cest  en  ces  termes  que 
la  comtesse  prepara  le  P6re 
Michel  a  entendre  sa  declara 
tion  de  mourante,  a  savoir 
que  sa  vie  enttere  avait  ete 
une  tromperie  calculee;  qu'en 
tout  temps  elle  n 'avait  cesse 
de  regretter  d'etre  femme  et 


Sforence  (J5a 


qu'elle  avait  toujours  desire 
etre  homme,retat  de  rhomme 
lui  semblant  etre  sous  tous 
les  rapports  preferable  a  celui 
de  la  femme.  II  paraitrait, 
d'apres  ces  dernieres  pa 
roles,  que  des  son  enfance 
meme  elle  etait  devenue  la 
proie  de  ce  mecontentement 
rongeur  avec  lequel  les  fem- 
mes  ont  Thabitude  de  con- 
templer  leur  propre  condition, 
et  de  cette  envie  curieuse  avec 
laquelle  elles  envisagent  les 
avantages  qu'elles  s'imagi- 
nent  etre  Tattribut  de  Tautre 
sexe.  Elle  avait  done  ete 
poussee  vers  une  carriere  de 
deception  par  un  certain  faux 
et  mauvais  orgueil  qui  lui 
avait  procure  un  etat  de  con- 
tentement  dont  elle  n'avait 


5  2 


jamais  reellement  joui,  et  lui 
avait  fait  proclamer  une  apos- 
tasie  qui  de  fait  n'  avait  jamais 
existe. 

"  '  Voyez  en  moi,'  dit  la 
mourante,  'la  plus  malheu- 
reuse  des  creatures  humaines 
—  sous  tous  les  rapports  et  en 
tout  sens  une  femme  —  une 
femme  imbue  de  tous  ces  pre- 
juges  intuitifs,  jalousies,  en 
vies,  et  mecontentements  par- 
ticuliers  a  mon  sexe,  mais 
neanmoins  rebelle  a  ces  senti 
ments  et  cherchant  a  les  mas 
quer.  Je  vous  adjure,  mon 
pere,  de  proclamer  hautement 
ce  fait  au  monde,  que  celle 
qui  desire  mourir  en  paix  doit 
vivre  dans  la  pratique  ouverte 
et  avouer  des  faiblesses  de 
son  sexe.7 


Sfotence  $a 


"Apres  la  mort  de  cette 
femme  extraordinaire,  un  pa 
pier,  ecrit  de  sa  main,  revetu 
de  sa  signature  et  scelle  de 
son  sceau,  fut  decouvert.  Ce 
document  portait  qu'une 
somme  de  30,000  francs  serait 
consacree  a  former  un  capital 
dont  les  interets  annuels  se- 
raient  payes  a  la  jeune  fille, 
franfaise  ou  etrangere,  qui, 
arborant  courageusement  le 
costume  distinctivement  mas- 
culin,  montrerait  dans  un 
manege  de  Paris  le  plus  d'ha- 
bilite  a  enfourcher  un  cheval 
a  la  fa9on  des  hommes." 


5  4  Sforence  (J5art0feg>0  jj^t org. 


TRANSLATION. 

PERCEIVING 
her  end  was  near  at 
band,  the  countess 
sent  for  her  father 
confessor.  That  holy  man, 
presenting  himself  forthwith, 
was  amazed  and  grief-stricken 
to  find  bis  venerable  charge  so 
sadly  changed  in  appearance. 
The  hand  of  death  was  already 
upon  her. 

"I  have   sent  for  you  in 
haste,  holy  father/'  quoth  she, 
(ffor  I  have  much  upon  my 
soul  which  I  would  fain  un- 
burthen  unto  you." 
TZre  Michel  smiled  sadly. 
"Ah,  my  child/'  said  be, 
tenderly,    "what    can  your 


Sforence  Q^arb0feg>0  ^fotg.  5  5 

pure  soul  have  to  sbrive  itself 
of?  Has  not  your  life  been  a 
shining  example ;  bos  it  not 
abounded  in  pious  deeds 
wherein  have  been  set  forth 
and  conspicuously  illustrated 
the  virtues  of  chastity,  religi 
ous  %eal,  charity,  fortitude, 
forbearance,  patience,  and  hu 
mility  ? y> 

"Alas,"  moaned  the  expir 
ing  woman,  "the  little  good 
that  I  have  done  is  beclouded 
and  outweighed  by  a  most 
grievous  sin,  which  has  been 
the  wrong-doing  not  of  a  sea 
son  but  of  many  years'  contin 
uance,  as  you  shall  hear,  for 
I  cannot  bid  farewell  to  earthly 
scenes  before  I  have  freely  ac 
knowledged  my  guilt  to  you. 
And  by  every  sacred  consider- 


ation  do  I  enjoin  upon  you, 
holy  father,  to  declare  unto  the 
world  after  I  am  gone  hence 
such  things  as  I  shall  now  con 
fess,  for  thereby  alone  is  it 
possible  to  undo  somewhat  of 
the  evil  that  my  counsels  and 
my  practices  have  done. " 

Witb  this  preliminary  did 
the  countess  prepare  Tere  Mi 
chel  for  her  dying  declaration, 
which  was  in  effect  that  her 
whole  life  had  been  a  studied 
deception;  that  at  no  time 
thereof  bad  she  ceased  to  re 
gret  that  she  was  a  woman, 
nor  ceased  to  wish  that  she 
was  a  man,  the  estate  of  the 
male  seeming  unto  her  to  be 
incomparably  preferable  to 
tba  t  of  the  fema  le.  From  these 
last  words  of  hers  it  appeared 


Sfotence  (}£at 


that  even  in  her  childhood  had 
she  become  possessed  of  that 
gnawing  discontent  with  which 
womankind  are  wont  to  con 
template  their  own  condition, 
and  of  that  curious  envy  with 
which  they  contemplate  the 
fancied  advantages  of  the  other 
sex;  yet  to  a  career  of  decep 
tion  bad  she  been  impeUed  by 
a  certain  false  and  wicked 
pride  that  asserted  a  conten- 
tation  she  never  actually  ex 
perienced,  and  proclaimed  an 
apostasy  which  in  fact  never 
existed. 

"Behold  in  me,"  quoth 
the  dying  countess,  "  the  most 
wretched  of  human  beings  — 
a  woman  in  every  particular 
and  sense  a  woman — one 
deeply  imbued  with  att  those 


5  8  Sforence  (j&arbefeg's  jj^t org. 

instinctive  prejudices,  jealous 
ies,  envies,  and  discontents  pe 
culiar  to  my  sex,  yet  a  traitor 
thereunto  and  a  dissembler 
thereof.  I  conjure  you,  holy 
father,  to  blazon  this  truth 
unto  the  world :  that  she  who 
would  die  in  peace  must  live 
in  the  confessed  and  open  prac 
tice  of  the  frailties  of  her  sex/3 
After  the  demise  of  this  re 
markable  woman,  a  paper 
written  in  her  own  hand,  and 
signed  and  sealed,  was  found, 
expressing  her  last  wish,  which 
was  that  the  sum  of  30,000 
francs  should  be  appropriated 
out  of  her  fortune  to  the  es 
tablishment  of  a  fund  whereof 
the  annual  interest  should  be 
paid  as  a  pri%e  to  the  girl, 
native  or  foreign,  who,  clad 


Sforence  (garbsfeg'*  J^ org.  5  9 

w  bifurcated  nether  garments, 
should  exhibit  in  the  Paris 
school  of  horsemanship  the 
greatest  proficiency  in  the  art 
of  riding  a  horse  man-fashion. 


f7 


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